


Silence in London

by MercuryAlice



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: A moment of self reflection, Gen, Zombie!lock, because that's what people do, in the apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-14
Updated: 2013-01-14
Packaged: 2017-11-25 12:50:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/639092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MercuryAlice/pseuds/MercuryAlice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A one-shot glance as the curtains draw to a close on Lestrade's life; the last one standing at the end of everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Silence in London

_“Human beings shouldn’t be able to bite that hard.”_  
  
Silence.  
  
 _“Spare me the explanation that ‘of course they can, Gregory’”_  
  
Silence.  
  
 _“They just shouldn’t.”_  
  
Third time wasn’t the charm. More silence and no Mycroft tutting and launching into a hushed, over worded lecture over the statement in his best ‘you’re a small child and I am loath to be explaining this to you but I will for your own good’ voice. No Sherlock answering with a blunt, cutting remark about his intelligence level and rattling off about the square pressure per inch of the human jaw. No John agreeing and adding something equally disbelieving to the topic or hissing at Sherlock to keep his mouth shut under the circumstances. 

Nothing.   
  
They were more dead than he was going to be in a few short hours. At least they wouldn’t have had the chance to get back up for long before the facility went into house cleaning mode and wiped out everything in the secure building. There’d be nothing left, he’d been there when Mycroft had calmly stated the nature of the facility they’d been locked within hours of the outbreak. The building itself would take ‘necessary action’ should infection permeate beyond the outer doors, was how he’d put it; not looking any worse for wear despite the crisis.

Greg had a feeling it would have done that earlier if it hadn’t taken so long for the annoyingly calm idiot of an infected government to underhandedly send him to a sealed exit and lock the door behind him. Most likely Mycroft had manually overridden the command long enough for him to be all but ejected from the building; the door hissing shut and bolting behind him.

Look how much good it had done him. Are you looking, Mycroft Holmes?

 

_“How much advantage does your caring having now?”_


End file.
